


Before You Get Mad

by ibelieve_whiteflag_aslansdefender



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Arthur's Decendants, Bromance, Constructive Criticism Welcome, First work in Harry Potter Fandom, Fluff, Gen, One Shot, Protective Arthur, Sad Merlin, Uther Pendragon's A+ parenting, Yelling Arthur, clean, confused arthur, hogwart train, the beginning of a new chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 05:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieve_whiteflag_aslansdefender/pseuds/ibelieve_whiteflag_aslansdefender
Summary: Arthur wanted to go back.All these years he’d waited- desperate for his friend’s return- and Arthur wanted to go back.Arthur wanted to leave him again.





	Before You Get Mad

Year One

“Before you get mad-“ Merlin scrambled backwards, grasping at the leather seats beneath as he shoved himself into the corner against the window.

“I’m not mad, why would you think that?!” Arthur’s squeaky voice warred with his blue pools burned angry enough to burst into flames. 

“I didn’t even know you came back, how is this my fault?!” 

“I’m a child! A child, Merlin! You think I did this to myself? Just randomly woke up one morning ‘you know, being dead is boring. I think I’ll turn myself back into a pathetic five year old!’”

“Arthur-“ Merlin started, trying to sound reasonable. It’s always best to sound reasonable when cowered against a window in a compartment on a moving train with a livid King. Boy king. Past king. Dead king. Because Arthur was dead. He was dead and none of this was real- Arthur wasn’t a child. So it had to be his imagination. Another hallucination. 

“I don’t know why on earth you brought me back, but you’d better kill me this instant-“ Merlin gaped up at the figure glowering above him. Grief lancing through every cell in his body, ripping his heart open. 

Arthur wanted to go back. 

All these years he’d waited- desperate for his friend’s return- and Arthur wanted to go back.

Arthur wanted to leave him again.

“I was happy there, I had Guinevere and the Round Table and my Mother- you’ve stolen me away from my Mother, Merlin! I’ve only known her for a few moments and you ripped me away from her! I thought you of all people would understand! Look, I’m sorry your the only one left, but that gives you no right to uproot me from my eternal glory and force me back here just because you got lonely-“

_ Crack! _

Merlin didn’t realize tears were streaking down his cheeks. Didn’t feel his heart breaking in his chest. Didn’t feel Arthur’s words boil his blood. Didn’t realize he’d stood, didn’t realize he’d punched Arthur until the blond haired boy crumpled to the ground, blue orbs bulging with disbelief.

Regret landed through Merlin, but it was quickly overpowered by thousands of years of locked anger and grief.

“Moments? Moments?!  _ You think I’d be so selfish to pull you away from your eternal happiness after a few moments?  _ I’ve waited  _ years  _ for you! Thousands of years!- watching as every single person I love  _ dies  _ and Camelot falls and the world fights and  _ slaughters each other- again and again and again! _ I have waited through thousands of years of pain and grief and loss- alone! Alone! Waiting for you to come back! And I’m so sorry that your coming back to save me inconveniences your ‘eternal glory’! How hard that must be, poor, stupid, worthless little old me taking up a second of your  _ eternal  _ glory! Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I  _ didn’t  _ call you back- and in case you haven’t noticed-  _ I’m a child too! _ ”

Merlin stopping yelling, his voice breaking and his breath ragged.

The last words rang through the compartment, shaking the walls and crashing in Merlin’s heart. 

Pain and grief and confusion flooded through him even as the racing in his heart ebbed.

Guilt wormed within him as he looked down at Arthur. The little boy’s pale eyebrows were hidden beneath his shaggy hair, his mouth open like a guppy fish, scarlet dripping from his crooked nose, his eyes wide with shock, clouded with fear.

A boy. 

Merlin had yelled at a boy.

And hit him.

It didn’t occur to Merlin that, at the moment, he was a boy as well. It’d been far too long for the age of the skin he wore to affect how he thought of himself.

All he could see was the scarlet on the boy’s milk skin. 

Arthur’s skin. 

Because he’d just punched Arthur.

The anger washed away, replaced immediately by an overpowering rush of euphoria that washed over him. He’d touched him! Well. Punched him. But he was here! He wasn’t just a hallucination! He was a solid, breathing, _ living _ Arthur!

Who was still gaping at him.

“Arthur-“ Merlin gasped, coming to himself. He immediately bent down to pull Arthur up. The king rose willingly, still staring mutely at Merlin.

“Your real! I’m sorry, I lost my head for a minute- but, but your real!”

Arthur continued to stare, his blood slowly dripping into his open mouth.

Merlin jolted as he realized the fact. His magic bubbled within him as his eyes flashed gold and Arthur’s nose popped back into place.

Arthur didn’t even notice, but he finally spoke.

“Your telling me,” His voice was guarded. His eyes far too ancient for his young face.

“that in the two minutes since Leon joined us, not five minutes after I died, you’ve lived thousands of years.  _ Alone. _ ”

The last word was so weighted Merlin’s throat closed and all he could do was nod.

Emotions flickered across Arthur;s face, his eyes open windows to them: disbelief, realization, pain, regret, understanding, apology.

Then Merlin couldn’t see them anymore.

It took him an embarrassing long moment to realize that was because Arthur was hugging him.

Merlin stiffened into a statue.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m hugging you, you idiot. It’s what you do when you haven’t seen the world’s worst servant in thousands of years.”

Oh.

He was speechless. Tears sprang to his eyes.

He hadn’t been hugged in fifty three years.

He’d forgotten what it felt like.

It was nice.

Arthur’s arms were strong- he could fall and they would catch him. His hands were gentle though, like he was a child to handle with care. Merlin felt his heart slow to match the steady beating against his ear.

He was here. He was alive. 

He melted into him, closing his eyes as every part of him soared. Someone was holding him- someone cared enough to hug him!

His tears splashed onto Arthur’s shirt and Merlin thought he’d pull away. Scoff. Leave.

He hugged Merlin harder.

They stayed there for a timeless moment. 

Then the door opened. 

Merlin opened his eyes to see a grandmotherly women’s in green robes poke her head inside.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, dears, but do either of you want anything off the trolley?”

~

“It’s a good thing, at least we know we’re not five!” Merlin unwrapped a chocolate frog, magically freezing it before it could hop away.

“I fail to see how going to a  _ magic  _ school is  good ?!” Arthur complained pointedly, staring at the discarded moving picture of Albus Dumbledore with wary eyes.

“I mean, I don’t think the age regression has affected my magical abilities, but don’t you prefer eleven to five?” Of course Arthur would think eleven was better, he hadn’t even started training at five. Merlin bit into the frog, relishing the comforting taste on his tong.

“Perhaps it’s escaped your notice, Merlin, but my father was Uther Pendragon! He slaughtered every magical thing he could find!” Arthur was gaping at him, unable to believe Merlin could be so dense. 

Merlin moved past his king’s panic dismissivly, inspecting the information on Dumbledore’s card. He’d waited thousands of years for Arthur to return to unite Albion. He was done waiting for Arthur to catch up.

“At least now we have an inkling of what destiny wants- we have to do something at Hogwarts. This is great, Arthur, it’s right in my element! I helped found this school! I wonder if there’s another prophecy telling us what to do?”

“I don’t have magic. I’m the son of the man who killed their great- something-grandparents. And I’m trapped in a pathetic child’s body. I’m going to be killed! I have a wife and a son- and-“ Merlin sighed as he realized Arthur was still stubborn. 

“Seven hundred and twenty five grandchildren- all of whom are dead, Arthur!”

Arthur’s eleven year old face couldn’t decide whether to look astonished or dumbfounded, twisting in a humorous attempt at both.

“Seven hundred and twenty five grand- how do you know that?!” 

Merlin rolled his eyes. Honestly. Like he would abandon his only connection.

“I was there for their births, idiot. And you’ve got more, those are just the dead ones. I think Lily is starting Hogwarts soon, actually.” Arthur washed white, horror dawning in his eyes.

“My granddaughter’s a sorcerer?” Merlin didn’t bother fighting a scowl. He couldn’t remember why on earth he’d thought Arthur was worth waiting so long.

“Arthur, your going to a school for sorcerers- well, they call us witches and wizards now- your going to a school of them, one out of many schools for them, in a world where there are entire families and industry’s and governments of them.”

“They’ve taken over the whole world!” Arthur gasped and Merlin sighed.

“No,” he said, his patient voice straining. “They’ve integrated with the world. We and the Muggles live in peace.”

“What are Muggles! And why are we in this stupid metal prison? And if you didn’t bring me back, who in sparking blazes did? And why are we here, what are we supposed to do? And how are you okay with just popping here in  _ an eleven year old body! _ And how on earth is my granddaughter a sorcer-witch?!”

Merlin’s heart ached as he heard the pain in Arthur’s voice. He was ecstatic! His friend had returned, he wasn’t alone, they had a new mission to fulfill, he wasn’t hiding who he was anymore! It was the happiest he’d ever been! 

But Arthur has been thrust from his sevan minutes in eternal happiness into a modern world complete with cars and trains and an entire magical community that he was expected to integrate himself with in order to do only heaven knows what to save only heaven knows who.

“Arthur,” The man-boy looked up, fear and confusion clouding his eyes making him seem even younger than his eleven years. “It’ll be okay. I promise.” Arthur’s face twisted, torn between believing his long lost servant’s words, or wondering why he should find his stupid servants words comforting.

Merlin sighed, there was only so much he could do.

Then he stood and crossed the compartment, opening the glass doors and calling into the hall:

“Does anyone have a copy of Hogwarts A History?”


End file.
